Totally Crazy

These beautiful roses showed up in a ribbon-wrapped vase on our kitchen counter the other day. They made me smile and then my grin grew as I read the card. The signature was "Totally Crazy" -- an alternative meaning for my husband's long-ago adopted first name, TC.

TC was never really meant as an acronym. An Air Force buddy started calling him TCB back in the day and soon after the "B" was dropped, shortening the nickname to TC. The full story is in the memoir he has worked on for a couple of years and which may someday be published. 

The flowers were a sweet thank-you for my help in editing his manuscript, which was a labor of love for me in many ways. I love the work of editing (and writing). I love learning more about TC's past. And I love reading his writing; he is a skilled craftsman in that art.   

The bouquet was also a fragrant (yes, these roses actually smell heavenly!) reminder that cancer is not the only thing going on in my life right now. Besides his memoir, TC and I both have projects that we enjoy doing -- he writes real estate columns for Columbus Monthly magazine and I do occasional freelance writing and editing as needed. Activities with family and friends also keep us busy. 

And the flowers remind me of the thoughtful partner who is supporting me in my cancer fight -- encouraging me to eat healthy, meditate and exercise so that I am in the best position to win this battle.

For lots of good reasons, I am "totally crazy" about TC.

Bring on the robots!

If fully independent robots can put a passable version of the iconic Mona Lisa in the foam topping a cappuccino, surely a human-guided robot can successfully excise the cancer that has once again taken up residence in my body. Right?

TC and I were a bit early on Wednesday for my appointment with the oncologist at the OSU James Cancer Center, so we couldn't resist giving the BistrOH! RoboJo animated coffee bar in the lobby a try before heading upstairs to see my doctor.

It was pretty incredible to see the machine behind the glass prepare coffee after coffee, sliding each completed custom order into a numbered slot accessible to customers who watched a video screen to follow the progress on their particular beverage. 

When the order screen asked TC what image should be used to mark his order, we both figured it was to put an identifier on the to-go cup, not in the cappuccino foam itself. Whoa!

But even that was not the most impressive part of our visit. 

Much better was what we heard from the doctor -- that the results he saw in the full-body PET scan I had earlier this month were the best we could have expected. This was the official pronouncement that the scan showed no new sites of concern. 

I had some trepidation before the appointment that the oncologist and surgeon might clash in their recommendations for my care, but those fears were also put to rest. The oncologist fully supports taking the sucker out ASAP, so we continue marching toward my June 9 date in the surgery suite. 

One downside is that he also recommends follow-up chemotherapy, but I'll do whatever it takes to fight this battle to victory. And if the long hair that took a few years to grow to its current length past my shoulders is part of the price, at least I still have my two wigs from earlier bouts. 

Pre-surgery tests on June 2 will tell whether the surgeon will be able to do the robotic surgery that he and I both prefer or if it will have to be a more open, hands-on operation to navigate safely past my heart. 

I'm taking the RoboJo coffee performance as an omen that more robots are in my future. 

Flowers of hope

 

The card that came with the colorful bouquet sent by friends shared a message as beautiful as the blooms: Flowers are a sign of hope. So is a positive PET scan. 

A note that a neighbor delivered with a bright bunch of daisies carried another positive message: Hope you get a clean scan. 

The flowers and their accompanying sentiments are pretty reminders of all the positive thoughts and prayers I have been receiving since sharing the news of my cancer's rude return. TC and I will take the powerful energy of our well-wishers into my appointment with the oncologist on Wednesday. 

We expect the doctor will provide his official interpretation of my full-body scan from last week and then discuss next steps. On our initial visit with him a few weeks ago, the oncologist was talking about chemotherapy as a likely scenario. Now that we have more information from the May 9 biopsy and May 17 full-body scan, the question may be whether we should follow up surgery with chemo or maybe even some kind of immunotherapy. 

I know research has produced new therapies and approaches since my last go-round with sarcoma 15 years ago. Now we'll get a closer look than I had ever hoped to as to just how far medicine has come. 

Scan-tastic!

The medical-speak language in the online test results I opened yesterday was initially unclear, and TC and I couldn't help but read it with scary skepticism. Then a physician friend looked it over and eased our minds. It was, indeed, good news, The head-to-toe PET scan I had earlier in the day did not locate any new suspicions of cancer lurking in my body other than the lung mass and a nearby nodule first detected in a chest X-ray a few weeks ago.

Hallelujah! Our prayers, and those of my legion of prayer warriors, were answered.

Our relief was levitating. It could have been so much worse. If other locations had been found, it would have meant a change in treatment plans from a surgical remedy to who-knows-what. Chemo? Immunotherapy? Radiation?

Only after hearing the good news, could TC voice what I had also feared but couldn't say -- that the scan would light me up "like a Christmas tree." Instead, it was like the scan gave us an early Christmas.

We will see the oncologist this coming Wednesday. Then more tests are scheduled for June 2 to prepare for surgery on June 9. The prayer now is that the tests will show I can easily tolerate the operation and that there is clear separation between the lung tumor and my nearby heart so the doc can remove the cancer robotically without having to do a huge incision. 

Thank you to all whose prayers continue to give me strength. 

Cut it out!

We met with a surgeon today and were pleased to hear that he recommends surgery on a fast track to take out the sarcoma that has reinvaded me. 

There are a couple of hurdles to clear first, starting with a full-body PET scan tomorrow, May 17, to make sure there are no other places where the cancer is lurking. Then he'll also want another scan to make sure the tumor is not too close to my heart so he can do the surgery robotically, with a much faster recovery time.

If all goes well, the surgery will be on June 9 at the OSU James Cancer Hospital. 

This is still very surreal. I feel too good to be this sick, but I am so thankful that I didn't have to wait until I felt really bad to learn that I have this cancer to fight again. Angels are watching over me.

Required reading

I confess: I don't always read the books that my two book clubs are reading. 

But the last one I read for my condo book club put me on a path to begin fighting my latest incidence of sarcoma much sooner than if I had waited for my next regular cancer checkup. How many book clubs can say they may have saved a life?

The book we were reading was Rough Sleepers by Tracy Kidder, and a passage toward the end struck me like lightening. 

I had been having unexplained pain in my left arm and shoulder for several months, and the book mentioned a homeless woman whose shoulder pain was wrongfully dismissed as stemming from an injury years earlier instead of being accurately perceived as a symptom of lung cancer. What!? 

Once you've had cancer, and especially when you've had it more than once, you tend to view every new ache as a sign of the dreaded disease returning. And then you try to tell yourself you're just being paranoid. But here was information that maybe my nagging shoulder pain was more than a sore muscle. So I freaked out, got an appointment with my primary care practice, told the physician's assistant about my lingering pain and the scary passage I had read. 

Thankfully, she ordered a chest X-ray and thus started my journey to dealing with an unexpected golf-ball-sized mass it revealed in my lower right lung. Otherwise, it would have been August before I was due for an annual chest X-ray as part of my cancer follow-up at the OSU James Cancer Center.

The PA also referred me to an orthopedic doc, who X-rayed my shoulder and found no rotator cuff issues, so he gave me a steroid shot and some exercises to do. Meanwhile, hubby TC has me doing daily meditation and following an anti-cancer diet. This combination of strategies has me feeling much better while we await further test results and consultations with a surgeon and an oncologist.

The moral of my story: read those book club books! You never know where it will lead you. 

Back to the future

Almost fifteen years after my first diagnosis, and 12 years after a single small recurrence, I really didn't expect to be writing again about dealing with a new sarcoma tumor. But there it is -- a golf ball-sized mass in my lower right lung. 

So my path forward means taking a backstep first to a drill that I have completed successfully twice before and fully intend to again. Make that three times before if you count my breast cancer in 1996. 

I go into this fight with a lot of positives on my side. I am feeling as healthy and fit as I have ever felt. The doctors I will be seeing at OSU's James Cancer Center are even more experienced with sarcoma than in my last go-round. And while I had a supportive and optimistic spouse at my side then, God rest Tom's soul, new hubby TC is not taking this sitting down. He already has us on an anti-cancer diet and has shown me the power of meditation to tap into my body's own healing strength. 

I know there is an army of friends and loved ones ready to be prayer warriors when they learn the fight is on again. They will carry me through this battle just as they did before.

And I will continue to chronicle the journey here. Writing these blog entries was therapeutic for me before, and I know it will be again. I hope you will find my journaling to be entertaining, educational and inspiring.

Thank you in advance for all of you who will walk with me by following my progress and lending me your strength. This win will be epic! And there will be many more beach vacations to come.